


Audience

by darkrogue1 (Lily_Haydee_Lohdisse)



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-17
Updated: 2007-08-17
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7692265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Haydee_Lohdisse/pseuds/darkrogue1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuuri is receiving foreign dignitaries, but it seems not everyone is listening very attentively to the diplomats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Audience

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-read by [](http://hisoka44.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hisoka44.livejournal.com/)**hisoka44**.  
> 

Thankfully, this time Yuuri did not have to remember complicated and strange new customs. This was a simple friendly visit from a few diplomats of Edelot. They did not have complicated demands, they did not expect much in return either. This was a simple ceremony to maintain good foreign relations. The head of the delegation was currently making a speech about the history of relations with Shinmakoku -- sadly not always so peaceful -- and Yuuri was attentively listening to him.  
   
Edelot was well known for its metal forging and Yuuri was currently holding their earlier gift across his legs. It was a magnificent sword. Of course it would just join the rest of the national treasure in a dungeon: the Maou had his own demonic sword, Morgif. Still, Yuuri liked the feel of the weapon and his left hand wandered distractedly on the hilt, feeling the intricate design of the decorating shapes under his fingertips.  
   
His attention on the speaker, he moved his hand without thought, absentmindedly letting the sword glide across the palm of his hand, feeling the strange difference of sensation where it touched his baseball-induced calluses. Slowly he let his hand wander to the tip of the hilt where a precious stone was ensconced. Its surface was cold and polished, yet another different touch.  
  
Then, suddenly one of his finger encountered a small disturbing irregularity on the stone's surface. Maybe the stone had a small fault, or a drop of molten steel had been sprayed on it during the making of the sword. Still looking at the speaker, attentively listening to a part of their countries history he did not yet know much about, he let his thumb pass over the asperity, recognising its small contours. Then, having ascertained by touch that it did indeed not belong to the piece of art he was holding, he distractedly started scratching it with his nail, intent on removing it.  
  
A shudder passed through the crowd.  
   
Yuuri looked around wonderingly. Nearly no one was looking at the speaker, which was -- Yuuri thought -- not very polite. Everyone seemed flushed, or mabye in slight disconfort, tugging at sleeves or collars. This was strange, since it was Yuuri who usually had trouble staying still during long official meetings. It was not even a hot summer day.  
   
Sitting by his side, Wolfram had his hands clutched in fists and seemed very tense. Wonderingly, Yuuri looked towards the other side. A few feet away, Conrad was pointedly looking away from him and in the diplomat's direction but his smile was sligtly more tense than usual.  
   
Yuuri looked around again. He must have missed something.  
   
Turning his attention back to the speaker he settled his left hand on the sword's hilt again. Whatever it was could wait. It must not be that important. He would still ask Conrad later, just in case.  
  



End file.
